


Please Pee On Me

by mimetime



Category: Bonertown USA: The Musical, Peepee Touchers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Catboy Gooby, Complicated Relationships, Dom/sub, Friends to Lovers, Furry, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Play, Self-Hatred, Urination, Watersports, golden showers, piss drinking, the pee fic! :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29043546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimetime/pseuds/mimetime
Summary: Carl and Gooby want the same thing.And that involves Carl pissing on Gooby.>> you asked for this. face the consequences.updated feb 10; unfinished
Relationships: Gooby Bloobers/Carl Chubnub





	1. Freak

Apprehension nipped at Gooby Bloobers, making his head buzz with a flurry of anxiety. He fidgeted with his hands, tugging at each of his fingers and cracking his knuckles rheumatically. How in the living _hell_ was he going to ask his most dearest friend for something like this? It felt so shameful, but Gooby swore up and down to himself that it was about so much more than just kinks. It was about being able to finally be connected with his idol, Carl Chubnub. He wanted him and _only_ him to be the one to fulfill his innermost cravings. He _needed_ this. 

Being dominated in such a _humiliating_ way was something Gooby had secretly desired for a long time, but President Michael Pence had passed a strict nation-wide ban on homosexuality. And Gooby and Carl were both boys. Even beyond that, Bloobers realized that his fantasies were... not exactly ordinary. These two factors discouraged him from confessing, for fear of being seen as some gross pervert by the only person who ever really showed him any ounce of humanity. So he kept his feelings for Carl locked away, hidden behind tall walls he had built around himself through overblown personas and an overoptimistic attitude. He was already seen as odd enough, so he didn't need anyone knowing about his deeper secrets on top of that. But every now and then, his true nature would slip through the foggy mask he felt pressured to put on whenever he wasn't solely alone. 

"Dude, _why_ are you looking at me like that?" 

Gooby was used to people talking to him in a rude fashion, but it still surprised him to hear such a harsh tone coming from the one and only _Carl Chubnub_. Out of all of the Peepee Touchers, Chubnub seemed to be the only one who recognized Gooby as a real person with human emotions. But Carl knew this was praise too high for someone as messed up as he was inside. He knew he didn't deserve so much recognition. 

"O-Oh! Gee, Carl, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stare..." His voice trembled nervously, though it often sounded this way even when he wasn't nervous. It's one thing Carl found endearing about him, and he struggled almost as much as Gooby did to keep these kinds of feelings repressed. He knew he shouldn't feel this way about his best friend, but he couldn't help it. And in moments like this, when he almost felt like Gooby was somehow aware of his feelings and was choosing to play with them, it made it hard for Carl to keep himself in check. In moments like this, Gooby made Carl want grab his face and mash their lips together without warning. He made him want to attack his neck with an abundance of kisses and bites, leaving him marked up as his property, his own personal little _pet_. He made him want to strip him naked, making him squirm as he touched him all over and completely possessed _every_ part of his pretty body, showing him who really owned him. He made him want to absolutely dehumanize him by emptying the contents of both his balls _and_ his bladder all over his-- "...Um, C-Carl?"

Carl's intense gaze on Gooby wilted away like a dying rose. Gooby caught a glimpse of the alarm shining in his dilated pupils before he ripped his gaze away from the taller boy. _Shit_. He felt like such a fool when he let his mask of normalcy slip like that. He already felt completely inferior to the other Peepee Touchers, and Jack always made sure to rub it in too. The _last_ thing he needed right now was to be exposed as a kinky homo. He felt guilty for even _thinking_ about doing any of these things to his innocent friend, who already faced enough mistreatment already. But the way he could feel Gooby's gaze boring into him made his heart thump against his rib cage, and his urge to put the other man in his place below him only grew stronger. 

"C-Carl... I need to ask you something..." 

Carl perked up at that, shooting Gooby a suspicious look. 

"What is it?" 

"U-Um..." Gooby stuttered, fumbling for the right words. He wanted to tell him, but... Just about everything Gooby ever said came out awkwardly and would quickly become subject to misconstruction. He just didn't know how to properly communicate what he was feeling, and it made others think of him as strange, or annoying, or just plain _stupid_. He didn't want Carl to think of him like that. "N-No, nevermind. Sorry." 

Carl tsked and ran a hand through his hair. This was a nervous habit he just couldn't seem to break, and he had plenty to feel stressed about in this moment. He knew for a fact that he loved Gooby Bloobers. He'd known this for a long time, but he always tried to ignore it. His attraction to the other man was a persistent weed in the garden that was his life, popping up no matter how many times he tried to rid of it. He didn't want to be ridiculed by the other Peepee Touchers for being unusual, especially after seeing how ruthless they could be towards Gooby. Sure, he had a few abnormal tendencies, but the others treated him as less than _human_. It made Carl's head buzz with anger, but he held back from retaliating because he knew what people would begin to suspect him of. And he knew they'd be absolutely right. Carl wasn't as straight as he pretended to be, and he _certainly_ was not as kind. But instead of giving in to his sadistic desires and inadvertently conducting his own demise, he just tried to be the one to show Gooby a more subtle type of kindness, always trying to be considerate of him and his needs. But in this situation, he felt as though he was being called into question, and he wasn't going to let any doubt be cast upon his heterosexuality. He wasn't about to rot away forever in jail for liking a fricking dude. 

"Whatever, Gooby." He used _that_ tone again. Suddenly, Gooby's heart had become a fish and Carl's words were the razor-sharp spear of a harpoon, piercing directly through him without mercy. Why was Carl being so damn _cruel_ today? Gooby couldn't wrap his head around whatever he did wrong to deserve this. Maybe Carl had finally figured him out. "I have to go train for the competition. You should probably start practicing too... Bye." 

And with that, he left Gooby standing there. He was stranded in sea of conflicting, _confusing_ emotions and there was no sight of land anywhere. After everything Gooby had done to try and hide away this part of him, was it still obvious that he really was as disgusting as people said? Maybe he was just proving them right, making himself into a spectacle to be mocked. Maybe he was nothing but a fucking freak after all. Gooby felt his lip trembling, and he sniffled as the tears automatically came down his face. Everything they said about him was true. He was such a goddamn _freak_. 


	2. Cocky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heheh. more like *cock*y, amirite? heheheh.. heh.  
> my last strand of sanity is dwindling away.

"So, are you prepared to train with the best Peepee Toucher of the century, Chubnub? _"_

Jack was always being this arrogant. He made it clear that he saw Carl as a supporting role, a mere accessory to his inevitable success. Carl was usually very forgiving about it, giving Jack the validation he sought after. But he was already ticked off from what had happened earlier with Gooby, so he was really _not_ in the mood for this. 

"Look, can we just focus on the training today?" 

"What? Can't take the heat?" Jack said with a smug look on his face. "Or maybe you just can't come up with a good comeback?" 

Carl's teeth gritted together in his mouth. The way Jack treated him was appallingly disrespectful, but he normally just went along with it. Jack's social ranking was higher than his own, after all. Admittedly, he _was_ the better Peepee Toucher. But Carl couldn't handle being constantly reminded that he was everlastingly inferior to these _real_ men today. And yeah, maybe this was about more than just the competition... 

"Jack, do you think you're perfect or some shit?" 

The question caught the black-haired man off-guard. It was out of character for his friend to challenge him like that, and it felt like the unexpected touch of an ice cube. 

"What...?" 

Carl sighed and shook his head, looking away from the man in annoyance. 

"I think we should just train separately today." 

"Huh? Why??" Jack said, baffled. He hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, why was Carl being so sensitive? 

"I just... I don't have the patience for this today." 

Jack eyed him, quiet for a moment before a smirk spread across his face. 

"Afraid I'll make you look bad?" 

He never knew when to fucking quit. But when Carl's open palm collided with his face, it knocked the smug look right off of it. It took a while for him to process that Carl had _slapped_ him, and when he realized, he stared down at the shorter man in disbelief. Something dark slithered in Carl's brown eyes, circling near like a serpent. 

"H-How... How dare you hit _me_ , the great Jack Offing--"

 _WHAM!_

This one was no slap. That was a _punch_. Jack immediately returned the favor, his fist slamming into Carl's cheek with a similar amount of anger. The boys went at it, neither of them willing to just let it go. After they'd exchanged a few punches, Carl landed a direct strike on Justin's face that broke his glasses but _didn't_ knock them off his nose. The left lens shattered and glass embedded itself into the skin on Justin's face, some slivers just barely missing his eye. He gasped in pain and stumbled back, ripping off his glasses with one hand and cupping the injured area with the other. 

Carl maintained his offensive stance while he watched the other man pick glass out of his skin. Bruises were blooming all over his face, and some blood had begun dripping from where the glass had pierced through his flesh. Chubnub felt a spark of electricity ignite in his stomach, and he licked his lips while he lifted his fists back into a fighting position. Jack looked at him confusedly, neither of his hands free to defend himself, and yelped when he was shoved onto the ground. Dry dirt puffed up around him as he hit the floor, dirtying his clothes and making his nose tickle. The frame snapped and flew out of his hand, and he looked up at Carl in shock. 

"Dude! What the-- _ACK_!" 

Pain shot through Jack's skull when the toe of Carl's shoe smashed into the softness underneath his chin, sending his head snapping back and tearing a yowl from him. He fell fully onto his back and coughed, shakily bringing up his left hand to protectively hold onto his throat. His body twisted as he leaned on his left arm for support, lifting his other to hold his hand out towards Carl. This position spoke volumes about how helpless Jack felt, and it was perhaps the most powerless he'd ever looked, but Carl wanted to hear him _say_ it. 

"I'll stop if you apologize and say you're the weaker Peepee Toucher," Carl promised, and he would. Jack looked up at him and--foolishly--decided to laugh. 

"Haha! Yeah, right! A-As if--" His confidence weakened when Carl pressed a foot down onto Jack's crotch, crushing the tenderness there. He grunted and grabbed at his ankle, panic flashing on his face as Carl increased the pressure. His pained grunts turned into whimpers as Carl twisted his ankle to push down harder onto Jack's privates. "S-Stop..." 

"Say. It." 

"...I'm--I'm _sorry_ , okay? I was wrong, and you're... Y-You're better. And stronger. So please... Let me go..." 

A shiver went down Carl's spine. He could practically _see_ Gooby in place of Jack, sniveling and squirming beneath his shoe. 

"Please." 

Relief rushed over Jack when he felt the pressure on his crotch retract, and he looked up at Carl with a reddened face. Something shined in Carl's eyes, but he just stuck his hands into his pockets and kicked at the ground. What could he even say now? He had a serious boner, and if Jack were to notice it, he would be done for. He needed to leave right away. 

"Don't tell anyone about this," Carl snarled. Jack wasn't given the chance to agree or disagree before he turned on his heel and took off. Jack was left there, sore and entirely baffled. 

What the hell was that all about...? 


	3. Defile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> verb - "sully, mar, or spoil"  
> "...to desecrate or profane (something sacred)"

The training grounds weren't far from Carl Chubnub's home, so that's where he went. He slipped inside and slammed the door behind him, feeling his erection swell in his boxers. The boy couldn't keep his hands off himself for a second longer, so he stood there in the kitchen and started palming the front of his pants, groaning softly at the freeing feeling. He shoved his pants and underwear off of him and leaned back against the door as he grabbed a hold of his throbbing cock. Pleasure seeped through his pores, making him tremble with excitement. 

" _Fuck_ ," he gasped, stroking himself hastily. He could tell he wouldn't be drawing this one out. It was just too fucking erotic thinking of Jack on the floor, _begging_ for his mercy. And what was worlds more enticing was the idea of _Gooby_ in that same position. Carl could already feel the pleasure building in his gut as he imagined the words Jack had said slipping through Gooby's pink lips instead. The boy shuddered at the mental image of Gooby's cock crushed beneath his heel. No doubt that bitch-boy would look up at him through curly hair and whimper and beg and cry and-- 

Carl let out a moan as his orgasm hit him, making his whole body shiver with waves of warm tingles. He stroked his twitching cock with wild vigor as strand after strand of cum shot out from it. It landed on the ground, of course, but Carl enjoyed the idea of it landing on Gooby's teary, bruised face instead. He'd look so _slutty_ , down on his knees with only his cat ears on, his face sticky with Carl's cum. 

His cock wasn't getting any softer with all of these thoughts running through his mind. The boy bit his lip and continued his stroking, groaning at the sensitivity. He usually tried to fight these urges. He knew it was wrong, he _knew_ it was illegal... but the fantasy he had of owning Gooby as his little pet and violating him beyond the point of redemption was just too hot to ignore, especially when his hand was literally wrapped around his throbbing, dripping cock.

Dirtiest of all--and the thing he was _most_ ashamed of--Carl wanted to defile Gooby with his urine. He couldn't deny it; he wanted to grab his face and hold it close and just _dirty_ him with his piss. He wanted to shove his cock in his mouth and just _force_ him to drink it. Carl wanted to watch him lick it up from the tip of his cock, or from the corners of his lips, or from the _floor_. 

Carl moaned and shook as he came a second time, cum drizzling out over his hand. He sighed out in bliss and finally relaxed, leaning back against the door and shutting his eyes for a moment. After catching his breath, the boy shuffled his pants back over his hips and went to wash his hands. He felt entirely drained after the day he had. He figured he'd just skip practice today and take a nap to forget about all this--that was, until he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He groaned in annoyance and brought the phone up to his face, squinting to see the caller ID. 

Gooby _fucking_ Bloobers. There was no way Carl was going to answer that, not after what he'd just done. He let it ring until it went to voicemail, and he left his phone in the kitchen as he retreated to his bedroom to sleep away the guilty feeling in his stomach. 

Despite knowing Carl wasn't happy with him, Gooby was still a bit surprised to be greeted with Carl's voicemail recording. He usually picked up his phone right away, especially if Gooby was the one calling. Still, when he was prompted to leave a message, he did. 

"H-Hey, buddy! Um... I-I just wanted to say sorry for upsetting you earlier. I really didn't mean to a-and..." Gooby gripped at his phone tighter. "I've got something r-really-- _really_ important to tell you... S-So if we could meet up...? Um, whenever you're free... That would be great. Um. T-Thanks, bye." 

_Beep._

The boy blushed and threw his phone away from himself. Of _course_ Jack had noticed the hard-on Carl sported during their fight, and of _course_ he had told the rest of the group about the whole thing. Something that hilarious wasn't something Offington could keep to himself. The others hadn't thought about it all that much, instead just laughing at Carl's misfortune... but Gooby couldn't keep his hands off of himself after hearing about it. And in his post-orgasmic fuzz, he had actually _called_ the subject of his submissive, piss-related fantasies. He felt stupider than stupid. What could he do now? Was he really going to go through with this? 

He caught a glimpse of himself in his full-length mirror, whimpering at the embarrassing sight. His usual nose and whiskers were drawn on his face, and was wearing a bubblegum pink set: a cat-ear hairband, a collar around his neck, cat-pawed mittens and thigh-high socks, complete with a silky pair of panties. It was safe to say he looked and felt like a fucking _slut_. But was it really okay to let Carl know about this side of him...? What if he was interpreting this news of Chubnub's erection completely wrong? But then again, what if he was _right_? Does this mean he could really have what he'd wanted for so long? 

Gooby moaned when he saw his cock growing hard in his underwear again, but he decided he wanted to save his orgasm for Carl. He searched through his drawer of sex toys and pulled out a chastity device, locking it around his cock. Right. He was really going to do this... He'd hand the key over to Carl and let him choose his fate. He'd let _him_ decide what he wanted to do with him. The catboy felt his gut swirl with arousal but he contained himself, pulling his regular clothes on over his promiscuous underclothing. _Right_. He could do this. He had to do this. He _had_ to know if Carl wanted the same thing he did. 

An hour had passed, and Carl hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He kept thinking about Gooby's call, wondering if he had left him any messages. What was he calling him for in the first place? Was it something trivial, or was Gooby actually onto him? What if Jack had told the other Peepee Touchers about what happened? What if they _all_ knew that Carl was a weirdo who got turned on while beating up another man? Worst of all, what if Michael Pence had been tipped off, and Gooby was calling to warn Carl? 

He was done laying here and in hopes that sleep would come. There's no way he could fall asleep with all these worries running through his head. So he got himself up and went to the kitchen, where his phone was waiting for him. He grabbed it and opened up his caller history, noticing a new voicemail from Bloobers. He opened it and listened carefully until the end. 

" _Save or delete this message?_ " 

_Ding!_

" _Message saved._ " 


End file.
